


Already yours

by elliceluella



Series: Always and already yours [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, Love, M/M, Romantic Gestures, just boys in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2019-11-27 04:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliceluella/pseuds/elliceluella
Summary: Foggy knows he’s always been a goner for Matt, but Matt takes sweetness and loving Foggy to a whole other level it’s difficult to breathe sometimes.The best thing about all this is the way Matt looks, like he’s finally allowed himself to be happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because it's MattFoggy week, here're some avocados in love!
> 
> Also filling the "Avocados" square on my DD Bingo card <3

“I’m almost afraid to guess what you’re buttering me up for,” Foggy says, slightly breathless with surprise, cheeks warming up in a way that only Matt’s been able to bring out whenever he does something sweet, just for him. “But, thank you.” He grips the bouquet of baby’s breath and buttercup Matt got him from the deli tighter as he leans in to kiss Matt on the cheek.

Karen coos from her desk when Matt beams so hard it puts their fluorescent lighting to shame.

“No buttering,” Matt says, hands raised. “Promise.”

“I dunno, I’m kinda with Foggy on this one,” Karen says, eyes squinting suspiciously at Matt although she’s still smiling. “Third time this week you’re being...positively saccharine,” and then, when both Matt and Foggy turn to give her mildly alarmed looks, “What? I mean, there’s a reason I’m the investigator here. I notice things.”

“Pretty sure there’s a difference somewhere between noticing things and keeping score, but sure,” Foggy says, and his gaze is back on the flowers, silly smile on his face he’s refusing to be embarrassed by.

“So I can’t be sweet to my boyfriend for the sake of it? There’s always gotta be something nefarious afoot?” Matt asks.

Karen makes a noise she quickly covers with her hand.

“Now what?” Matt asks, and the small pout hanging off the edge of his lips would’ve been more convincing if it weren’t for the smile.

“Nothing! It’s just. The way you looked when you called Foggy your boyfriend,” Karen says, a little dreamy. “It’s cute.”

Foggy laughs. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too, Matty. Karen’s right. It _is_ cute.”

“See?” Karen says, smug. “ _I notice things_.”

This feels new but also like it’s been going on forever in the best possible way, and Foggy thanks his lucky stars every single day that Matt read his journal by accident because mortifying as it was it’s now the best thing that’s ever happened to him, second only to meeting Matt.

Foggy knows he’s always been a goner for his best friend, but Matt takes sweetness and loving Foggy to a whole other level it’s difficult to breathe sometimes. He actually scared Matt by crying the first time Matt made him breakfast in bed and the first time Matt held him without any prompting.

The best thing about all this is the way Matt looks, like he’s finally allowed himself to be happy.


	2. our patchwork of love

**Origami-nto your heart**

There’s the tiniest bit of spite and glee in knowing he’s using what he learned from Stick— what was meant for a war— and applying it to something Stick would label frivolous with utmost derison. But fuck Stick. This isn’t something he’d understand.

Foggy is important to Matt, their relationship is the best gift he’s ever received, and the things Foggy’s delighted “Aww _Matty_ ,” does to his heart is more than worth all the stealthy ninja sneaking required to slip his little notes and origami into Foggy’s pockets and other places where he’d find them.

He loves those happy little sighs, loves it even more when Foggy finds his notes when they’re in their respective offices and he murmurs, “You’re getting a thank you kiss for this later” low and pleased, and then Matt will stick his head out just far enough that Foggy’ll spot his besotted grin across the entryway.

Sometimes Foggy will press up against his chest when they’re alone in the pantry and pretend to pick the lint off his shirt, a palm warm over his heart as he leans in for a kiss.

“I appreciate you showing me the many things your talented hands can do,” Foggy says from his desk one evening while Matt’s rinsing out his coffee mug, twirling the paper frog that Matt had scribbled “You make my heart go ribbit” on the inside between his fingers. “So why don’t you come over later and I’ll give you something else to keep your hands busy? I’ve also got a pile of clean underwear that needs folding if that’s more your speed” and laughs when Matt’s mug clatters loudly in the sink.

\---

**Blindfolded park date**

Matt pulls a suave, romance novel hero-esque move during their date at the park, stretching one arm out towards Foggy. It’s cheesy and it shouldn’t work but Matt’s whole brand is being contrary and defying impossibilities so Foggy actually melts when Matt asks, with a ridiculous heart stopping smile, “Do you trust me?”

It’s a stupid question. Of course Foggy trusts him— would trust him with more than his life, but he swoons too hard and takes a second too long to answer because the sunlight streaming through the trees brings out the red in Matt’s hair and Foggy loses his train of thought for a while ( _aggressively beautiful_ is his new favorite description about Matt), so Foggy plays it off as a dramatic pause. He’s still got his pride to maintain, after all.

He takes Matt’s hand and gets the whole romance novel quality dip-and-kiss before he’s turned around, Matt’s fingers gentle as he puts his blindfold on for him.

“You’ve always given me the World According to Foggy Nelson since the day we met, so I thought this time I’d introduce you to my world,” Matt says, warm breath tickling Foggy’s ear.

“Well way to get me all aflutter,” Foggy says, smiling so hard it skews his blindfold a little. “How long did it take you to come up with that line?”

“Hey, I’m trying to be romantic here,” Matt protests, and if Foggy wasn’t laughing he’d share just how cute he thinks it is that Matt can squeeze his pout into his voice.

He settles for a pat on Matt’s chest instead. “Alright, Mr Murdock, I’m ready. Take me into your world and sweep me off my feet. Just, warn me if I’m about to step on dog poo, okay? I _really_ like my shoes.”

Matt does a beautiful job guiding him around, describing everything his senses pick up, steering him clear of a couple of obstacles. When they’re in a quieter spot Matt presses up close and rests his hands on Foggy’s waist, humming a slow jazzy tune he says is playing in an old couple’s apartment a block away as they sway together, Foggy resting his head on Matt’s shoulder and feeling so happy he could float away if it weren’t for Matt’s embrace.

“Hey,” Matt says, gently bumping shoulders with Foggy after he finds them a park bench to rest and takes off the blindfold. The first thing Foggy sees when he opens his eyes is the shy contented smile playing across Matt’s lips. “Thanks for letting me do this. I know I might be overdoing things a smidge but, you’re special and, and this feels... _special_. I’ve always wanted to try, to do- I tried it once and it wasn’t. Appreciated.” Matt pulls a face. “But you’ve always just let me _be_ , so,” Matt shrugs. “Thank you, Foggy.”

“Matty,” Foggy says, choked with emotion, clutching Matt’s hand tight. “You can be as, as sentimental and mushy as want with me, explore that softer side of yourself if you want to. You don’t have to be perfect or play any role you think is expected of you, you know that, right? C’mere.” Foggy pulls Matt in for a hug and he goes willingly, buries his face in Foggy’s neck, pressing a smile tight against his skin. Foggy thinks he’s going to feel it for days.

\---

**Crimson & Clover**

“Quick, we need to make out now,” Foggy says, rolling over and straddling Matt when a new song starts playing over the radio.

“Okay,” Matt says, laughing, steadying Foggy’s hips with his hands and giving them a squeeze, relishing the warm softness. “Why now specifically?”

“It’s my song,” Foggy answers, breath stuttering at the end but covering it up by slipping his fingers from the nape of Matt’s neck into his hair, tugging gently and grinning when Matt’s hips jerk up in response. There’s something else Foggy’s not telling him.

“I think you’ve got, like, eighteen of those. What’s so special about this one?” Matt pushes, wetting his lips and tilting his chin up, smirking when Foggy hesitates and squirms. But Foggy’s not going to admit defeat quietly, he slips in some payback when Matt claims his victory kiss, nipping Matt on the lips hard enough it makes him wince.

“It was on my Making Out with My Roommate playlist,” Foggy mumbles.

Matt chuckles. “You had a playlist for making out with your roommates?” He leans up and presses a quick kiss to Foggy’s cheek, savoring the heat that’s been sweetly blooming across his face. “Or just me in particular?”

Foggy sighs, and Matt loves that he no longer needs Foggy to tell him he’s rolling his eyes to know when he’s doing it.

“You, dummy.” Foggy jabs him in the chest, and then, after Matt smirks and lets his hands wander a little lower until he’s squeezing Foggy’s ass, says, “Cut me some slack. I was _young_ and you were _hot_ and we were in constant close proximity. I needed an...outlet to work through all those pent up emotions.”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing now?” Matt asks as he rolls his hips upwards and draws a moan out of Foggy. “Creating an outlet?”

“We,” Foggy says, as he leaves a trail of kisses from underneath Matt’s chin, down his throat and all the way to his chest, “Are living our best life in honor of poor young Foggy Nelson. Oprah would approve.”

“Well if Oprah approves...” Matt tightens his hold on Foggy and flips them over, smiling as Foggy’s delighted laugher hangs in the air.

*

“I was thinking,” Matt says, after the song’s over but they’re far from it— closer to having only just begun, actually— Foggy bucking up into Matt’s touch after he takes Foggy in his hand and strokes him just once before leaning down to lick into his mouth, “You still got that playlist?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Foggy pants. “Matty, c’mon,” He whines and grips Matt’s wrist hard when Matt still doesn’t move.

Matt kisses Foggy once more but draws it out, keeps his strokes slow and languid just so Foggy does that full body shiver. “How many songs are on there?”

“Definitely-” Foggy cuts off with a moan. “More than thirty.”

“Thirty,” Matt echoes in wonder. “What do you say we make our way down that list and help make a former college student’s dream come true?”

“Oh, yes _please_ ,” Foggy breathes.

\---

**Sweet treats**

“I like the way you taste of my hard work,” Matt murmurs after he feeds Foggy one of his cookies and kisses Foggy silly, slow and thorough until Foggy’s weak in the knees. Probably a good thing that he’s seated on the countertop, then.

It’s a sweet and heady combination, Matt’s apartment smelling like one giant cookie and the way his fingers taste. Foggy licks them and does whatever he can to keep them in his mouth for a few extra moments, grinning when Matt drags them out almost reluctantly, lingering as they slide over Foggy’s lips.

(Foggy laughed after Fran rolled her eyes when she saw Foggy standing outside Matt’s door and grumbled something about how Matt had been stinking up the corridor with his baking for the past few days, because he could just see the pout on Matt’s face, upset that Fran had spoiled his surprise.

“Oh Matty,” Foggy said, laughing at Matt’s expression once he opened the door, cupping Matt’s face and kissing him until that frown turned upside down.)

“Me too,” Foggy replies, still blissfully kissed-dumb. “More please.”

Matt hums. “Cookies,” he asks, smirking, picking up another one, “or kisses?”

Foggy hooks his legs around Matt’s waist, pulling him in. “Just hurry up and stop being coy, Matthew,” he says, smiling when Matt laughs and stumbles towards him.

\---

**Sunflower**

He smells it before he even passes the bodega around the corner from his place, bright and crisp and cheery. If there was a flower that reminded him of Foggy it would be a sunflower— not just because Foggy’s his sun, or the vibrant yellow he still remembers from his childhood that he’s unequivocally associated with him, but also the way its sturdy stem feels in his hand.

It never ceases to amaze him that something soft and delicate could have a such a strong backbone, makes it feel even more special and beautiful.

Matt’s got a pretty clear idea how he must look right now even though he can’t see it for himself, sunflower carefully tucked into his briefcase with its bright yellow petals sticking out, the spring in his step matching the smile on his face that’s become a permanent fixture ever since he kissed Foggy that first time.

He’s already garnered no less than three separate _aww_ ’s on his way to work, but best of all is the song Foggy’s heart sings when he spots Matt approaching. It’s a melody he could listen to forever.

“Well well well,” Foggy says, leaning against the door frame, voice cool despite the uptick in his temperature. “I see you’re being sweet on me again, Mr Murdock.” There’s the barest hint of a smile in his voice and Matt follows it like a golden thread, tracing it back to Foggy’s lips.

His fingers twitch with the need to touch Foggy, like they’re being called home, because that’s where his hands belong: with Foggy, on Foggy. _Always_ , if he had any say in it.

“I see nothing,” Matt says instead and grins at Foggy’s groan when he pointedly adjusts his glasses, “But sweet and possibly cheesy attempts to let my boyfriend know I’m thinking of him. And also...to make him blush.” He presents the sunflower with a flourish and basks in Foggy’s glowing warmth, pulling in a deep breath to get even more of Foggy at the same time he’s desperately wrapping himself up in Foggy’s scent like a scarf. “I assume it’s working?”

Foggy makes a noise which he swiftly covers with a mumbled, “C’mere, you,” and proceeds to wrap his arms around Matt’s neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. One that receives another _aww_ from an old lady walking past them down the street.

“Did you just try to cover up your swooning noise?” Matt asks when they part, his hands still on Foggy.

“I did not,” Foggy denies. “And I most definitely _do not_ have a swooning noise.”

Matt chuckles, thumb and finger gently caressing Foggy’s chin before he leans in for another kiss. “We’ll see about that, shall we?”

“Thought you just said you can’t see shit,” Foggy grumbles, but it comes off so besotted Matt just has to kiss him one more time.

\---

**Showing me off**

“You showing me off, Murdock?” Foggy asks, warm and amused after he turns around one more time to wave goodbye to Maggie, who’s still leaning against the doorway to the church. Things with her have been... going better than he expected, and introducing Foggy wasn’t something he knew he needed until Maggie hugged Foggy and a familiar hot tension started to build behind his eyes.

Matt laughs. “You make hard not to,” he says, swinging their hands as they walk, squeezing Foggy’s fingers.

“Hey. I hope you know I’m not going anywhere,” Foggy says, with a tenderness that has Matt biting hard on his lips just so his heart stays right where it is. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to make up for lost time,” Matt says, unable to keep the regret out of his voice, squeezing Foggy’s hand again when Foggy makes an affronted noise. Foggy’s not wrong— it’s a fear Matt’s still unable to shake off, but that’s something to grapple with for another day. “All the things we could’ve had sooner. So many more memories. But. It’s also coming from a selfish place.”

“I like showing you how much I- not only because you deserve it, but because...it’s a symphony, the way your body reacts. Your sounds, smells, the way you taste...” Matt caresses the inside of Foggy’s wrist before he brings it to his lips.

Foggy shivers. “You’re not being very subtle, you know,” he says, smacking Matt lightly when he preens.

“Wasn’t trying to,” Matt says and pulls him into a kiss right on the sidewalk, laughing against Foggy’s lips when he hears his mom mutter " _Keep it in your pants, Matthew,_ ” in the background, the barest hints of her chuckle making his smile stretch just a little wider.

\---

**Get your blood pumping after the movies**

Heat creeps into Foggy’s cheeks and he bites his lips— he doesn’t need super senses to know what Matt’s smirking about, features standing out in sharp contrast to the darkness when a particularly bright scene bathes Matt’s face in color.

“I know movie night was my idea,” Matt whispers, leaning in closer than necessary, just so Foggy shivers when his lips brush against Foggy’s ears, “But I’ve no clue what the plot’s about, and your narration’s been a little…less stellar than usual—”

“Not my fault,” Foggy retorts, squeezing his thighs together when Matt tightens his grip over Foggy’s crotch for a second before he lets go to trace one finger along the bulge that’s straining underneath Foggy’s zipper. The whine he’s been fighting so hard to hold back thrashes behind his teeth, and all he gets for his trouble is a quick kiss, one that’s half apology, half encouragement.

“So what do you say we get out of here?” Matt asks with one more squeeze.

Foggy doesn’t bother with words and just groans in reply, grabbing Matt’s hand and tugging him out of the near empty cinema.

The cool evening air does nothing to clear his head. The walk’s a blur and he doesn’t register where their legs take them until they stumble into Fogwell’s, Matt walking Foggy backwards until the back of his knees touch the boxing ring.

Matt presses his entire front against Foggy’s and kisses with intent, licking into his mouth until it coaxes a moan out of him, voice low and husky when he says, “Get into the ring.” Making out in Matt’s old stomping grounds? Well. Don’t need to tell him twice.

“Are we finally starting our self-defense lessons?” Foggy’s barely finished speaking before Matt’s on him, knees straddling his hips.

“Lesson one’s next time,” Matt says, bending to nip at Foggy while one hand deftly unzips his jeans. “Gotta pass the entry exam first.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Foggy gasps and bucks into Matt’s hand. “Something tells me I’m gonna be the teacher’s pet.”


	3. Chapter 3

He knows it’s inevitable— Matt definitely heard him hobbling to work a block or two ago, but it’s still embarrassing to see Matt waiting for him at the bottom of their office building, worried frown firmly fixed in place. 

“What happened? Why didn’t you call me? And- why didn’t you take a cab to work?” Matt asks before Foggy even has the chance to explain anything, moving to get an arm under Foggy and support his weight.

“I may have had a minor incident last night?” Foggy says, and when Matt’s mouth twists into a tight unhappy line, “Just a small one, I promise!” It should feel wrong that Matt’s worry thrills him, right? And yet...

“You didn’t say anything when we texted last night,” Matt says, and Foggy knows he’s trying real hard to keep the upset out of his voice. “I know I said I wouldn’t pry into your Team Vigilante bonding time, but-” Matt pouts after making a face at ‘Team Vigilante’. “What exactly did you and Danny get up to?”

“I figured if you can stand going to work with a bruised rib, what’s one twisted ankle?” Foggy says, and instantly regrets it because Matt looks like he’s about to rip his poor hair out. “I didn’t-” he sighs. “Okay, so, _partial_ disclosure now that this...is kinda out in the open. Danny’s helping me with a surprise. Yes, it’s for you, and no, I’m not telling you what that surprise is, so don’t go snooping around.” There was no way he’d tell Matt the full truth anyway, that Danny had introduced him to his favorite chef for a taste-testing session for their surprise picnic slash mini getaway, and he was too busy having a food orgasm with the burger Chef Vinnie gave him to go that he didn’t look where he was going. 

Matt doesn’t let him get up from his desk once they’re in the office and insists that Foggy spends the night at his place when they’re closing up, frowning disapprovingly when Foggy makes a joke about how this is all a plot to get him alone. He kisses him lightly anyways. Foggy’s not sure if Matt’s aware about the way he gets more physically affectionate when he’s worried about Foggy, like he needs those touches to tell himself that Foggy’s still alive, still real, or if Matt’s doing all that consciously either as an apology for all the _motherhenning_ or as a way of saying _please be good and rest_.

“This is really working for me,” Foggy says around a mouthful of broccoli and beef, his leg propped up on Matt’s lap while Matt tenderly applies pressure and feels around Foggy’s ankle, “You being all domestic with the laundry and cooking and the x-ray hands.” 

It’s kind of hot, the intimate knowledge Matt possesses about the human body and its limits— how he uses it as Daredevil and, conversely, for introducing Foggy to new _realms_ of pleasure that always leave him witless in the very best ways. “This is all very cozy, maybe I should’ve-”

“Absolutely not,” Matt cuts him off, giving his equivalent of a stern look. “We can do domestic without having injury as a prelude or- or as an excuse.” 

“Maybe. But you gotta admit that’s kinda been our pattern,” Foggy says, shrugging. “Though the roles are usually reversed.”

Matt’s face flashes sad and guilty for a second before he hides it with a familiar firm set to his jaw. “Fine,” he says. “Then let’s change that. I’ll- I’ll do better.”

“Matt, I didn’t mean-” Foggy sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “No, nevermind. If this means you’ll be more careful and we can have more cozy domesticity where _both_ parties are injury-free then, yes, please. And thank you, for trying. And for the dinner. It was really good.”

Matt smiles and playfully pinches his big toe. “I know. Your fork hasn’t left your hand the entire time.”

Foggy laughs. “So what’s the prognosis, Doctor Murdock? Are my gymnast dreams forever dashed?”

“You,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss Foggy on the cheek, “Need to rest. No pressure on that leg.”

Later that night Foggy looks over just in time to see Matt laugh at something from the show that’s playing on the TV; he’d lost the plot five minutes ago staring at Matt, loose limbed on the couch, T-shirt rucked up on one side, hair sticking up right where his head’s leaning against the cushioned armrest. Everything about this moment is wonderfully domestic and it’s everything that Foggy’s ever wanted— for himself, for _them_ , back when the idea of them together was just an achy thing that lived in his heart.   
  
He grabs his phone to snap a photo, smiling so wide it hurts.   
  
Matt makes a curious noise and turns his head towards Foggy’s direction, easy laughter from earlier now settling into a fond smile that’s beautifully soft around the ages.   
  
“Got what you wanted?”   
  
Foggy laughs. He already did, back when Matt wrote that letter and hand delivered it to him. But when he reaches over and rubs a hand over Matt’s leg and Matt lets out the prettiest sigh, Foggy thinks maybe… “Almost,” he says, moving over to straddle Matt’s waist. There’s still one more thing, and it involves all the noises he wants to get Matt to make.   
  
“Foggy,” Matt says warningly as he steadies Foggy’s hips with careful hands.   
  
“I’ll be careful, Doctor Murdock. Promise,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and shifting so he’s not putting too much weight on his ankle, leaning down before Matt meets him halfway and kisses him nice and deep. “Now, you just lie back and relax.”   
  
They rub against each other until Matt gives a breathy moan, Foggy sitting up to push Matt’s shirt up to his chin and slide his sweats down just below the curve of his ass.   
  
“Foggy,” Matt gasps, lips parted and so red Foggy just has to press his own against them when he finally wraps his fingers around Matt’s dick, fluttery _ah_ ’s and bitten off moans growing in volume when Foggy tightens his grip and goes faster. Matt just holds on to Foggy, squeezing his sides.   
  
“Yeah, that’s good, Matty, let it all out,” Foggy says, slurring a little, getting off on the way Matt looks and sounds and _feels_ , twisting his wrist the way Matt likes it just to wring a strained _f-fuck, Foggy,_ out of him.   
  
He presses Matt down when Matt starts panting harder and his hips aren’t resting on the couch anymore, brushing his lips against Matt’s neck and letting him know exactly how gorgeous he sounds.   
  
Matt kisses Foggy hard when he comes, groaning into his mouth. It’s exquisite, fire and silk travelling down Foggy’s spine, a hot shiver setting his skin ablaze. He leans down and licks Matt’s torso clean, one hand shoved down his own pants. All too soon the hot tension in his belly uncoils and he flops on top of Matt, drifting on the taste of Matt on his tongue and the sound of their breathing.   
  
“Got what you wanted?” Matt asks again once they catch their breath, fingers playing with Foggy’s hair, combing and stroking, scratching his scalp and tugging gently making Foggy shiver.   
  
“Mmm,” Foggy hums, “Exactly what I wanted,” he says, pleased and still a little dazed, smiling when Matt pulls him up into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](http://ellicelluella.tumblr.com/) or [Pillowfort!](https://www.pillowfort.io/elliceluella)


End file.
